


it's a showdown, and nobody comes to save you now

by KHart



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/F, Memory Loss, Not Really Character Death, POV Alternating, Violence, a little darker than usual, but mmmm, idk what this is actually it was supposed to be a one shot, incorrect, it's mostly fluff, mature language, mature themes in general, ok I lied it's not BUT there's a lot of soft parts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-08-27 08:27:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16698928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KHart/pseuds/KHart
Summary: Question: If you have no memory of being a villain, are you still a villain? Or is it a blank slate? A do-over?Additional Question: What happens if a villain with a severe case of memory loss is taken in by the heroes they had just been fighting? Are there records for that? A precedent? What exactly are the heroes supposed to do in terms of serving justice but also being fair?That's more questions than intended, but, really, the most pressing one is: What the hell is going to happen to Fatal Flair now that she's no longer Fatal Flair?---Or: Charlotte is a feared super villain, until, suddenly, she's not.





	it's a showdown, and nobody comes to save you now

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a tumblr post that is written out in the notes at the end. I take no credit for the concept of it, just what I have written here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Shatter Me" by Lindsey Stirling featuring Lzzy Hale.

A big misconception about Charlotte Flair—or Fatal Flair, as the newspapers deemed her—is that she enjoys causing pain.

She guesses, given her family track record and the fact that she is somewhat a part of a villainous plot, it's an understandable misunderstanding for people to have, but still. It isn’t true.

Charlotte Flair doesn't like causing people pain. In actuality, she nearly hates it.

But it's just something that she has to do, in a way.

Which sounds incredibly socio and psychopathic, but it's true.

Because, you see, Charlotte Flair has wonderful powers. Superpowers.

She's got super strength. Enough to stop trains if she tries hard enough.

She's got super speed. Enough to outrun trains if she tries hard enough.

She's got enhanced healing, for if she ever actually got injured by one of the trains. Which is unlikely because of the super strength and speed, but, anyways, long story short, she's extraordinary, and she's extraordinarily hard to beat.

But she wasn't born that way.

No. She was made that way.

Her father, Ric Flair, is one of the most powerful and sinister scientists in the world—one of those well-known, went insane types—and he broke her down and built her back up to be what he wanted when she was around ten years old.

She went through experiments and trials and tribulations, and she faced more pain than any person ever should. And it made her into one of the most unstoppable, formidable forces known to mankind.

Now, of course, you might ask: why would her own father do this?

Well, he has a plan, you see.

A pretty simple plan, if you ask him.

"I merely wish to take over the world, my dear," he would tell her some nights, after 'performance practice.' "And as I start to gain bits and pieces of it, you are going to be the one to protect it. Until, finally, we will have all that we ever dreamed of and more."

So, yes, Charlotte was merely meant to be the bodyguard of Ric's gainings. She was meant to be the bodyguard of the group of varying villains that he sends out into the world to steal all that is valuable and needed for his plan.

If someone was to try to put a bullet through one of her father's hired villains, she was to take it for them. (Hence her advanced healing.)

If one of her father's hired villains were to fall, she was to pick them up. (That's where the strength came in.)

If a bomb were to be rigged at one of their spots, she was to disarm it or get it out of there. (Finally, the speed.)

Every part of Charlotte Flair was for a purpose.

She was the Plan B, but she was the last plan set in place, because she was foolproof.

She never did the dirty work in the sense of robbing people or places, but she was evil by association, because she stuck by them and she protected them. (And that was fair enough, to be honest, because they wouldn't really be able to do it without her there.)

She stuck by them and protected them, because none of the people her father hired had powers. More deeply, she stuck by them and protected them because her father told her to. And her father made her. So, who was she to fight against him?

And she isn't sure when exactly it was that she started to become the most well known villain in the city. She isn't sure why.

Well, okay, she kind of knows why.

She thinks it was probably because someone caught her on video throwing a grown man about half the length of a football field.

They had tried to stab that mission’s leader, Braun, and while he was a big man, who could handle himself, it wasn't his job to handle anything but what her father told him to handle. So, she stepped in, and she threw the would-be assassin easily. And someone saw the security footage and posted it for views.

Thus creating her supervillain image.

She was speculated about in the papers continuously afterwards, and, somehow, some journalist managed to connect the dots from her to her father.

"Fatal Flair kind of has a nice ring to it, don't you think, darling?" he had laughed when the story ran.

He was nowhere close to worried. They were hidden away in a spot that was fortified by both machines and people. No one could reach them.

"This might actually be a blessing in disguise. Because if they know who's running you, then they know who will soon be running them too... Oh, yes, my dear, this is perfect."

He had taken her face into his hands then.

"You go out there, and you give them a figure to fear. Remind them that the Flairs are not ones to be trifled with, and they are definitely not ones who can be stopped."

And Charlotte had nodded.

Because he was her father, and she was still so naïve in her belief that she couldn't do anything to fight him. Even though she could overpower him with a mere wave of her hand.

She did what he asked, and she gave the public someone to talk about.

She didn't kill, but she fought those who stepped to her.

Eventually, it came to be that if some hero wanted to test their mettle and gain traction, they would seek them out, in order to face the group, but mostly to face Charlotte.

For a year and a half, Charlotte and the various, interchangeable players of Ric's game, were unstoppable. They made moves swiftly, sometimes silently and sometimes not.

No one was a match if Charlotte was involved.

Until seven months ago, when a new group emerged.

Evolution, they're called by the hopeful public.

A team made up of only female superheroes, and a gigantic thorn in Charlotte's side.

And as far as Charlotte can tell, they've only got four members, but still, they're _irritating_. They almost make her want to be legitimately evil sometimes.

The leader, or at least the one who coordinates their "missions," is a woman that can make fire flow from her fingertips—or, really, can will fire to do whatever the hell she wants. She's got flaming orange hair—which, really? Talk about leaning into something—and an accent that is definitely not native to their dump of a city. Charlotte's heard her partners call her "Red," but she refuses to call her anything but "Fire Girl" whenever they have brief standoffs, sometimes "Fire Ball," if she's particularly grumpy. It's always fun to piss the woman off a little. It makes the fight more fun.

Then there's the purple-headed one—Charlotte really doesn't get the appeal of dyed hair, but whatever—who can morph and control metal, which is always helpful because, though the members of Charlotte's team switch out, the consistent use of guns is always present. "Metallica" is her name. Charlotte likes to call her "Dimes," sometimes "Nickelback." Getting a rise out of her is even funnier than out of the Girl on Fire.

More sensible with her hair color but still continuing the trend is the one with neon green tips at the end of her darker strands. (Charlotte thinks they must've all met at a superhero beauty shop.) She's got super speed, kind of like Charlotte's, and the first time they had clashed, Charlotte had barely been able to conceal her surprise at someone able to keep up with her movements. There had been a similar expression on the woman's face. They call her "Glow," presumably because she's always wearing bright, blaring colors that make her fun to watch as she goes by in a blur. Charlotte's come to call her "Glow Stick."

Rounding out the group, and Charlotte's favorite because she's got a nice brown shade to her hair, is the fighter with the ability to turn invisible. Which means that Charlotte gets to see her ordinary hair color the least, sadly. It also means that she's the one Charlotte worries about the most, because when she says "she's a fighter," she means it. She must've been trained since she was young, because she's very agile and creative when it comes to fighting techniques, and she's very good at catching Charlotte off guard. They call her "Sneaks," an obvious nickname instead of a superhero moniker. Charlotte doesn't call her anything, because she doesn't ever exchange words with her. Even after seven months and dozens of encounters.

And dozens of encounters, it truly has been.

Charlotte's almost convinced they had Sneaks put trackers on her when she wasn't paying attention, because Evolution always shows up to their spots and makes their lives difficult. And while Charlotte admires their dedication to the cause of "justice" and "the greater good," she still has a job to do.

A job which her father continues to remind her is her only purpose.

"If you keep letting this girl group get away and ruin our hits, we're going to have to make some adjustments, Charlotte."

He had made his point by tipping his head towards the testing chamber, where their weapons' effects were determined on Charlotte, since she has regeneration and is practically impervious to harm. (Harm but not pain, unfortunately.)

Then he cut his eyes towards the ever-bubbling set of tubes and vats that gave her her powers in the first place.

"This next job is going to go perfectly and without problem, correct?" he asked simply, after the cues.

Charlotte nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"Great!" He reached up to pat her on the cheek. "Now, you know that I've not been wanting to draw too much attention to us from the likes of the law, so I was restraining the team from using deadly force, but, I think, this time, I'll allow them to use whatever means necessary to get the job done."

Something in Charlotte's stomach had solidified suddenly. She swallowed around the piece of it that bounced up to lodge itself in her throat.

"You mean you're going to authorize them to kill Evolution if they can?" she asked, cautiously. "That will draw in a lot of heat from the public. They're starting to love them. Even more than Comet."

"It will remind the public that anything they love can be taken from them. By me. If I want it."

And if Charlotte was braver she would've said, "By me, you mean." But she isn't, so she just stayed silent because she had learned her lesson years ago on questioning her father further.

"Go gear up. It's almost time."

Charlotte did as she was told. As she always did.

And that's how she wound up at this warehouse in the middle of the night. That's why she's standing at her post on the roof, awaiting the company she is sure will come.

The industrial part of the city is always almost barren, but especially at night, and, so, she isn't worried about any chances of civilians stumbling upon them and endangering their lives like usual.

(And she's definitely grateful for that. Because the people her father called in for this specific job are a tad more ruthless than usual, and she doesn't think they would hesitate to shoot someone on the spot.)

She's still got an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, though. Like somehow something is going to go wrong. If not for them as a whole, then for her, specifically.

She keeps thinking back to her father's words, to what he said in the group meeting and brief. How he told them—her, a man they call The Baron, and the duo of Ziggler and McIntyre—that they could finally rid themselves of the 'pest' that is Evolution.

She wonders what the jobs would be like if they didn't have Evolution there to stop them, or, at least, slow them down.

She thinks it'd be incredibly boring.

She also thinks that they'd very much be successful, and, truthfully, she doesn't want that. Because, while she's not brave enough to rebel against her father herself, she's thankful someone is.

She's thankful that someone is working to stop him.

She knows others are too.

She sees the graffiti in the streets, when she's wearing civilian clothes and has slipped away to try to see what living on her own would feel like.

She sees the shirts made. The kids playing 'Heroes and Villains.' The media coverage on just who Evolution is, and if they can possibly stop Fatal Flair and 'The Monsters of Mayhem.' (Don't even get Charlotte started on how horrible of a name that is. It sprouted up after the job with Braun, and she's resented it wholeheartedly since.)

Evolution seems like a new hope. A new beginning, maybe.

And if they're taken out, if that light is snuffed, the city will fall to her father's plans not long after, Charlotte's afraid.

But, still, she's so uncertain, so much more afraid of the grip her father has on her and how she could run for miles and he'd still be able to find her.

So, she doesn't know what else she's supposed to do but follow through. Always follow through.

Never pull punches, just make them glance off less vital parts of the body.

Never go easy, but maybe aim a little sloppy.

Never be weak, but imperceptibly show mercy.

That's how Charlotte tries to go about things.

That's how Charlotte intends to go about things as she hears the first indicators of Evolution's arrival.

But, for a few moments, she doesn't turn her eyes from where they're focused on the lights of the city. She doesn’t have to look to know that it's her fiery friend that's standing at her back.

Something about the way that the other woman doesn't advance makes her think that maybe she knows something's off about tonight too.

They stand in silence for approximately ten seconds.

"You shouldn't have come," Charlotte says eventually, lowly.

She knows she's still heard. She doesn't add, 'I was hoping you wouldn't.'

"The typical villain tagline, of course," comes the response, but it sounds a little uneasy too. Charlotte definitely thinks the hero can feel the shift tonight. "Do ya have anything new for me?"

"You should go, so no one gets hurt."

"Well, I think we both know I'm not gonna do that, lass."

Yeah, Charlotte did know. But she had a little hope. Hope in Evolution seems to be traceable in almost anyone these days.

She has to physically restrain herself from letting out a sigh, long and tired.

Because, god, she's so tired.

She's tired of spending her life on a cause she hates. On evil. On hurting people and robbing them blind.

She's tired of living in fear, in cowardice. She's tired of not having what it takes to stand up to her father.

She wishes she were brave, like Evolution, like this Fire Girl behind her and her companions. She wishes she could fight the good fight.

She wishes that, for once, she could do something that would save, or help, at least.

"What about you?" is the question that breaks her out of her inner turmoil, her ever-present inner turmoil. "Feeling like calling it a night early? So none of your people get hurt?"

Charlotte lets out a breathy kind of laugh.

"None of mine," she repeats. "That's funny. Don't know if you've noticed, Girl on Fire, but my team is interchangeable. I don't have people."

"And yet you still protect them. Why is that?"

Charlotte's jaw clenches.

This is not how the night is supposed to go. This is not the moment where she can waste time.

Still, she finds herself answering: "It's my job."

"Doesn't have to be."

"Now, who's being cliche?"

"I'm only telling the truth."

Charlotte pivots around on her heel then, to face who is supposed to be her enemy. She wonders, briefly, if villains can be saved too. If she could just ask and have herself taken away. Hidden somewhere else.

But then the voice of Ziggler crackles through on her comms: "They're here. Baby Flair, where you at?"

And her reality sets back in.

"So was I," she says. "You should've left when you had the chance."

"Don't know if you've noticed, Tooth Flair-y, but my team's not one to run from a fight."

Charlotte's lips almost quirk up, because that's a new nickname.

"Nice one," she admits, just before she uses her speed to knock the woman to the ground and make it to the ground entrance of the warehouse.

She looks around, keeps her eyes open and alert, for any sign of the others.

"I'm posted at the entrance," she says, finally answering Ziggler. "How much longer?"

"These chemicals are super volatile," The Baron answers. "We need at least fifteen more minutes to secure them."

She curls her fingers into fists. Squares her shoulders.

Glow stands a few yards away, watching her with an anticipatory smirk on her lips.

"Make it ten," she commands.

She's just about to take a step forward when the sudden sensation of something lodging itself into the muscle of her bicep makes her attention snap sharply down to it.

She inhales a short breath through her nose, but otherwise shows no pain. A round disk, with multiple small needles on its underside, is stuck in her skin.

She meets her opponent's eyes.  

"You know tranquilizers don't work on me."

And it's true. They don't. Her regenerative cells burn through any kind too quickly to allow it to take effect.

But something about Glow's face is smug, and it makes Charlotte think she might be in the dark on this one. It makes her think her hunch about tonight might be right.

"Not trying to knock you out," the woman tells her then. "Just trying to knock you down a few pegs."

Charlotte's eyebrows furrow.

She reaches up and removes the disk roughly and with an unimpressed expression on her face. She goes to walk forward, towards the fight awaiting her.

But then she notices the red dots of blood on her skin, where the needles just were.

The small wounds should've closed up as soon as their cause was removed. But they didn't.

Charlotte suddenly understands.

Glow looks extremely pleased to see the dawning of realization on her face.

"My friend's a good shot, no? Got you directly in a vein, didn’t she?"

Charlotte hardens her jaw. Her earlier sympathy doesn't waver, but her reluctance to fight retreats some.

"They've shot me with something. I think it's stopped my ability to regenerate."

"That's not supposed to be possible," McIntyre says.

"You're telling me," she mutters. "Just hurry up. Who knows what else they have up their sleeve now."

Glow is still standing before her, and Charlotte suddenly thinks she's the diversion. She's the distraction.

She's already succeeded in keeping Charlotte still for long enough to be shot with whatever serum they've concocted.

For a second more, they watch each other, familiar with the short pause before they officially square up.

Charlotte shifts her foot in the dirt. Glow transfers her weight to her right leg.

A force uproots Charlotte from her stance and sends her to the ground, where she lands harshly.

Sneaks.

A growl slips past her lips.

The weight is off of her in the next instant, but before she can even attempt to move, a ring of metal clasps around her right wrist and digs itself into the ground. Three more follow, leading all the way up her forearm to her elbow.

She strains against their force, but it's obvious Metallica is still influencing them.

Her left leg is the next to be entrapped.

"Oh, Flairy-tale," rings out the accented voice. "What's the matter? Don't like being tied down? You more of a free spirit?"

Charlotte glares up at the leader.

"You're making a big mistake," she tells her.

Well, more like, tells the group, because now they're gathering around her. Even Metallica, whose hand is up and very obviously still manipulating the metal keeping her down. She tightens its grip on Charlotte's arm just because she can and smiles when Charlotte grits her teeth at her.

Glow and Sneaks slip away, and Charlotte tries to call after them, "You shouldn't go in there," because it's her last chance, to try to get them to leave just this once.

(Can't they just let her save their lives?)

"Aw," Red exclaims, in faux sympathy, tilting her head enough to meet Charlotte's eyes and to have some of her orange hair fall across her forehead. "You've really just got to get a new pamphlet for bad guy sayings. Spice things up a little, and you might be having some more fun."

"I'm serious," Charlotte insists, still subtly trying to work against Metallica's power. "It's a bad idea for you to engage tonight. You're gonna regret it."

"I know this is your first loss, lass," Red leans forward a little. "It's okay. The sting will wear off, I promise. And, hey, at least we beat you Flair and square, right?"

"If you call shooting me with whatever the fuck serum you made fair, then, sure," Charlotte retorts. "Look, just let me go, and I'll let you go. No one gets hurt."

"No one gets hurt? Tell that to the bruise that's gonna be on my shoulder from your ramming into me."

Charlotte is getting more desperate. This back and forth is taking too long.

Her team is going to be done soon.

"Please just listen to me and go. They've got orders—."

The acutely familiar sound of gunfire cuts Charlotte off. Red and Metallica's attention shifts, and that means that Metallica's attention wavers for just enough time.

Charlotte rips herself free and gets to her feet at a whiplash-inducing speed. She ignores the lacerations that the action opens on the skin of her arm and leg as she pushes Metallica forcefully backwards, sending her twisting through the air for a few feet before she lands heavily on the ground with a thud.

A harsh sensation of heat, that she’s familiar with but isn’t used to being affected by, consumes her left arm. The sleeve of her shirt—a compression fabric very close to her skin—is flame resistant, but it doesn’t fully block the feeling.

She whirls around and does the same thing to Red that she did to Metallica. She shoves her full-force—well, not actually full-force, because Charlotte would break her bones—backwards and watches as she flies through the air.

She doesn’t move after she lands, but Charlotte checks both her and Metallica’s pulses to be sure they’re merely unconscious.

Then she slips into the main space of the warehouse.

“Baron, what’s your location?” she asks, quiet and quietly hoping she’s not too late.

It’s silent now. The initial reverberation of the gunshots is gone, and no sound of struggle or fight has taken its place.

Charlotte’s nerves start to tingle. The cuts on her arm and leg smart a little.

“Ziggler,” she tries instead. “McIntyre.”

She gets no answer.

The comms must have been cut off.

She swears under her breath and continues to skirt her way along the edge of the room. As she gets closer to the entrance of the only hall in the building, she can finally hear voices, panicked and a little muffled.

”Release the god damned chemical he gave us, Ziggler!”

”I’m trying, but it’s like something’s holding my hand shut!”

Charlotte runs into the doorway.

“Flair!” McIntyre shouts. “Get the fucking speedster!”

Charlotte speeds herself up, just in time to see Glow’s fist coming for her jaw. She manages to dodge it and duck under the woman’s arm, going deeper into the room, past where McIntyre and Baron are still attempting to load up the vials they came for.

“You should go get your friends off the ground outside,” Charlotte says, as she and Glow lock up. “And then you should go home and mind your business.”

They collide into the wall.

"You should shut the fuck up."

Oh, so, she's pissed off.

And while Charlotte would usually revel in the reaction, because it makes for a better fight, she needs cooperation tonight. She needs them to go right now. And if they're getting angrier, more defensive, they won't.

"I'm seriously just trying to help you," Charlotte says, and, look, she knows she's not the most reliable source, but can they just listen for a second?

Glow scoffs and slips around to put Charlotte in some sort of head-hold, not a lock exactly but still a little restrictive.

"Nothing worse than a villain who thinks they're the hero."

Charlotte uses her strength to power herself out of the woman's arms. She delivers an elbow to Glow's stomach and listens to the way the breath whooshes out of her lungs as a result.

"I just think you need to listen," she says. "But since you won't, I'll have to take care of it like always."

Without further preamble, Charlotte grabs ahold of Glow's upper arms, and she's in the middle of shifting her weight so that she can propel the hero away—the best move she's got that won't directly cause too much injury—when the shattering of glass breaks her concentration. Merely because it's followed immediately by a victorious shout.  

"How heroic you gonna be without your powers, huh?!" Ziggler exclaims with a bark of laughter.

Ice cold dread grabs hold of Charlotte's insides.

"What—?"

Green smoke starts to seep from the broken vial that Ziggler had been holding. Tendrils of it twist and swirl in the air, and it almost seems like it floats towards them—towards the super-powered people.

"Ziggler, what the hell is that?" Charlotte yells, as her nostrils start to burn.

Her grip slackens on Glow, and Glow's shoulders shake under her touch as she lets out a cough. She hadn't even realized that they'd slowed to a normal speed of interaction.

Charlotte's lungs feel like they're burning, and the fire is spreading through her veins. To the tips of her fingers and toes.

Her head feels suddenly light, too light and too unsteady. Her vision blurs.

She stumbles a little to the side and barely manages to catch herself against a rusted table.

"What—What the fuck is in the gas, Ziggler?"

"Something that renders super powers ineffective," he replies. "Because Boss Man is sick and tired of these ladies fucking everything up."

Glow has dropped to her knees with the feelings of her powers fading, and Charlotte almost goes to reach out to her, in sympathy, in solidarity, but Ziggler gets to her first. He lands a harsh blow upon the woman's jaw and sends her sprawling out upon the ground.

Charlotte is still trying to catch her breath as he grabs a fistful of the hero's hair and forces her to look up at him.

"Not so strong without your enhancement, are you? Can't hang with the rest of us now?"

"Fuck you," Glow wheezes out.

Charlotte winces subtly as he lands a slap on Glow's cheekbone. She wants to do something, wants to stop what's coming when he pulls out his gun, but her muscles feel weak, almost atrophied. Like her essence has been stripped away and is trying to replenish itself from ground zero.

She sees the woman they call Sneaks lying against the wall nearer to the door. She's on her side with her hand grasping at a bleeding wound on her abdomen. Her chest is heaving just as Charlotte's is, just as Glow's is. She knows what's next just as Charlotte does, and she stirs like she wants to stop it, but the effect of her powers being seeped from her and her injury seems to keep her down.

"Got any sins to repent before you go?"

The barrel comes down to rest against Glow's forehead.

"Go to hell."

Ziggler smirks. His finger moves to the trigger, and Charlotte pushes herself upright once more. She's moved too late, she knows, but she still tries to walk forward anyways.

"Wait—."

The click of the gun jamming makes Charlotte jump some. Her knee gives out beneath her, and she barely manages to catch herself from falling fully towards the ground.

Her head snaps over knowingly, to where Metallica stands in the doorway. A faint trickle of blood has seeped into the line of her hair, contrasting the purple there sharply.

She looks livid.

"Big mistake."

The firearm is ripped from Ziggler's grip in the next second, and it flies back and hits him squarely on the nose, sending him stumbling away with a shout, grasping at his face.

Charlotte is still reeling from having everything within her ripped away. Her fingers are shaking, and her stomach is rolling, and honestly what the hell is going on?

Her father ordered for them to use this chemical? To render Evolution weak and ineffective?

Did he not tell them that it would be a dumb idea to do it while she—their protection—was in the room? Are they just stupid?

There are so many questions whirling around in Charlotte's mind as she tries to stand back up that she's completely caught off guard by the kick that lands on her jaw, flat-footed and with full force.

Her ears begin to ring immediately, but when her head makes contact with the stone of the floor, the noise strengthens into an almost-roar.

"Stay down, Flair," comes the demand, though lacking the sharpness of clarity in its syllables because of Charlotte's sudden slip in focus.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Red going to Glow, reaching down to where Ziggler had haphazardly let go of her.

"They released something," Glow says, gripping Red's arms. "Our powers are gone."

Charlotte looks back down—away from the subtle panic and urgency of the interaction—and she shakes her head to try to regain some stability. She pushes herself up on her forearms.

Her fingertips probe at the spot of her forehead that hit the ground, and they come away slightly stained with red.

Footsteps suddenly pick up and run out of the door, down the hall and into the larger part of the warehouse. Charlotte notices that the men have grabbed as many of the vials as possible. Metallica is nowhere to be seen, so Charlotte is also assuming she's the one they're running from.

She rolls her eyes and wonders, not for the first time, where her father manages to find the people he hires. She wants to call them cowards, but, then again, at least they're doing something they believe in, even if they don't have the grit to follow through. While she, herself, has the will to complete jobs but for a cause she despises. So, really, they're all cowards, she guesses.

And, truthfully, she could just let them go. She could lie in her spot until she's recovered more, and she could let the men run away, because then the fighting would be over and Evolution would live to foil their plans another day.

But then she hears the comms crackle to life again, and Ziggler's voice cuts in and out in her ear: "—rigged to blow—let's go—Flair!"

And Charlotte realizes then, that her father didn't just give permission, like she thought. He must've given these men orders to kill Evolution.

So, now, they've rigged this place with explosives, and Charlotte's not fast enough to get rid of them. She's barely even strong enough to stand.

She's drained still, and she doesn't really care anymore about anything other than getting herself and her fellow super-powered people out of the vicinity. Because this slight against her and them has made her feel like they're on the same side, more so than usual, at least. (Maybe all she needed in order to be brave was to just get really pissed off at having her powers stripped away by her own father's invention. Who knew?)

She manages to get onto her knees, her palms to the ground.

"They're gonna blow us up," she finds herself saying, because, though she still can't really hear that well, she can feel the vibrations of the words in her chest. "Better get moving."

She can tell they're confused. After all, she's still just a villain in their eyes, and she always will be. (And also because she just mentioned them all exploding in a pretty casual tone.)

But they take her words at face value, _finally_. (She would feel accomplished at that, but she thinks that they've never gotten this close to real failure before. And she knows that the possibility of death is bound to make even the strongest and most stoic people search and strive for any way to survive, including ways that involve listening to an enemy.)

So, they all start to move towards the door.

Charlotte makes it out first, even with the brief hesitation she presents in wondering if she should help Sneaks stand or not. (She only decided not to because the woman glared harshly at her as their eyes met. So, Charlotte shrugged and kept going.)

Her trip down the hall is mostly supported by the wall on her right. That ringing in her ears still hasn't settled down enough for her to feel as aware as she wants to be, but she can make out the voices of her so-called team in the belly of the warehouse.

They seem to have realized they made a mistake in releasing the chemical without all of the super-powered people present, because they are certainly no match for Metallica, especially in the element of an abandoned building filled with all sorts of rusted and ragged metal.

The walls and doors are made of just what Metallica needs to keep them trapped, and as Charlotte finally emerges into the space, she sees that Metallica is doing just that.

The Baron is heaving and huffing against the door Charlotte herself used to get into the building, but Charlotte can see that Metallica bent the edges of the door and the frame around it together. It's not going to budge any time soon.

Ziggler and McIntyre are fighting to get free of chains that have wrapped around them and clumped them together.

Metallica is now nowhere to be seen, and that makes Charlotte's anxiety spike up.

"Flair!" Baron shouts, not caring about drawing attention, losing precision in his panic. "Help me get this door open! We've got to go!"

Charlotte follows the orders by instinct, but it becomes clear after a few shoves—weak and barely even there—that she isn't able to do anything with the same success as usual.

"Are you even pushing?"

"Yes," she answers steadily. "But maybe you should've thought about your contingency plan for when you ripped my powers away, huh?"

He straightens himself enough to look down at her. It's a disconcerting sight only because of the fact that not a lot of people can physically look down on her.

"Your father is the one who authorized us to use it, and he seemed to think that you would still be able to get us out of here. So, take your shit up with him and watch your fucking attitude when speaking to me, girl."

The temptation Charlotte has to put her hands on him in that instant is almost as overwhelming as the immediate effects of the chemical were, and it's really only their distinct lack of time that has her reigning in her desire to punch the guy's teeth in.

"What the hell did you rig the place with that's going to make it explode?” she asks instead. “I didn't see any kits in the van."

"Didn't need them," he grunts, now going back to pushing against the door. "The canisters on the walls?" He gestures, and Charlotte sees three lined up to her left. "All it takes is one bullet to one of them. The whole place will go."

 _Fuck_ , is the only thought Charlotte can form in her mind.

Because, usually, that would pose no problem or threat. Usually, she could bust through this door, and they could be on their way. Usually, she could take those canisters out and away from anyone they could hurt. Usually, if the place was rigged to blow, it wasn't by them but against them, and she wasn't worried about the heroes going up in the blaze because they were already long gone.

But she's very much aware of the fact that this night is not in compliance with "usually" at all.

So, she increases her efforts in getting the door open. She places a kick to it that makes the metal creak but remain stuck in place.

From somewhere behind her, McIntyre suddenly lets out an angry shout, and the sound of the chains clanking to the floor lets her know he's free and ready to keep fighting.

Charlotte bites her tongue harshly enough to make a metallic taste burst to life across it.

Because everything is far more chaotic than any other job they've ever done, and Charlotte hates it.

Charlotte thrives on _perfection_. On directness. On every action having a purpose and on every action being precise.

But this? This is a mess, plain and simple.

Hot and steaming and skewed all over the place.

She was right to feel uneasy. She was wrong to not try harder.

She should've stopped playing the role she was given for two seconds and just straight up told Evolution that their dynamics were going to shift, that their usual practice of refraining from trying to _kill_ each other was no longer going to be the norm.

She should've stopped doing what her father told her to a long time ago.

She should've stopped being so scared of breaking free and being found.

She should've, should've, _should've_...

There's a lot of things she should've done but didn't.

And it's only in this moment that Charlotte finally acknowledges this, instead of pushing it down like always.

It's only in this moment with her regeneration and her speed and her strength gone that Charlotte realizes she could very likely not make it out alive. It's in this moment that she decides she's had enough of not doing what she wants to do, of not doing what she _should_ do.

So, she turns away from the task of escape. She starts to move towards the center of the room, where Red is engaged with McIntyre.

She notices Metallica helping Glow and Sneaks out of a small opening in the wall at their backs. But, instead of going after them like she would normally, Charlotte walks towards the fight taking place.

Red seems to have McIntyre in control. Flames dance and dart from her fingertips and across her skin onto his own effortlessly. Every step he takes towards her, she keeps him at bay and burns him a little more. But she doesn’t do anything more than that. She’s still playing the fair game and refraining from deadly force, and this just opens the door for him to get increasingly frustrated.

It's a wonderful thing to watch, if Charlotte’s being honest.

She’s almost captivated by the sight of the woman, actually. At least, enough to slow her momentum forward a little. (Because the way that every part of the hero is alight with fire and purpose, literally and figuratively, is breathtaking. And Charlotte didn’t have much breath in her lungs to begin with. So, she freezes momentarily.)

But then she sees Ziggler start to stir out of the side of her vision, from where he had apparently been thrust into the left corner, at Red's back and facing Charlotte herself, and she's shaken from her distraction.

McIntyre is suddenly thrown back with a burst of hot force, and he lands at Charlotte's feet. He's incredibly lucky that he also has flame-resistant gear on.

"McIntyre!" she says, as he tries to stand and go back. "Help Baron get the door open. I've got her."

McIntyre pauses and glares for one more second, but he doesn't resist.

Charlotte takes swift steps forward. She comes face to face with Red.

"Wish you had taken me up on the offer?" she asks, because, despite it all, talking to the woman always feels like something she needs to do.

She gets a performative flaring of flames as her direct response.

"Same question goes for you."

And Charlotte's tempted then, to nod and let the woman slip away. She's tempted to ask if she can come with.

But then she notices Ziggler advancing toward them, from over Red's shoulder, and she knows she doesn't have time for any of that. She doesn't even have time to shout a verbal warning as the shot is fired.

She barely manages to surge closer and grip the woman's arms, but, as she does, she twists their bodies towards the ground, with Red below her for good measure.

She swears she can hear the bullet whiz past her, but she's _sure_ that she can hear its impact with one of the metal canisters near the wall.

"Oh, shit—!"

Charlotte's not quick enough to do anything but use her arms to protect her and Red's heads. (She doesn't even have time to think about how she's never not been quick enough before.)

The explosion takes place somewhere between a half and a third of a second later. It feels like it takes forever to reach her, though.

Because Charlotte expects the heat to immediately burn her up. She expects a painful flash but a quick end. She expects _her_ end.

But then she realizes that the heat is there and it's not burning her.

It's suffocating and thick, but it's not deadly. She's not being touched by the flames.

She carefully removes her head from where she'd lowered it near Red's own, and she looks up. She gazes around to see the fire all around them but not anywhere near to harming them.

She's suddenly so grateful that she managed to keep Ziggler from hitting his target.

Her and Red's eyes meet.

Charlotte regains her bearings enough to get her weight up and off of the hero, but she's still very light-headed and hot from the flames, from her lack of strength and maybe even meaning, so it's only so that she can sit a few inches away.

Her ears are ringing from the detonation and from the roar of the fire, so she only notices the second explosion because of the way the ground shakes beneath them once more.

She's not worried this time about being harmed by it.

But she should've been.

Because a flying piece of debris makes impact with the back of her head before she can even blink again.

She lurches forward and can't even catch herself or stop the fall.

Her consciousness has already gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> My tumblr is Flairfatale.
> 
> \---
> 
> The original tumblr post said: "Imagine a villain getting injured and losing their memory and the heroes finding them and taking them with them and taking care of them and the villain gets their memory back after like a week but doesn’t want to say anything because the heroes are being so nice to them and nobody has been that nice to them in so long and they don’t want it to end and they’re maybe getting fond of the heroes but don’t tell anyone shhh. But eventually something happens and the heroes are in trouble and they’re trying to get the villain to run away because they still think they’re an amnesiac with no idea how to defend themself and they’ve grown to like them and don’t want them to get hurt but the villain just pushes past them toward whatever is trying to hurt the heroes and just fuckin goes guns blazing and destroys them."


End file.
